Chapter One- The Call

The evening had begun as so many of them had before. She met her father, step-mother and younger brother at a nice restaurant just at the edge of town. They enjoyed a pleasant meal together, chatting of old times and future plans. Karen pushed for details of Sarah's adventures in medical school and Toby bragged relentlessly about his soccer team. If Robert had seemed somewhat withdrawn, it was passed off as mild fatigue and forgotten about.

After dinner, the family made plans to drive a short distance to the bowling alley. Karen insisted that they take one car together, pointing out that they could always drop Sarah off at her car on their way back to the house.

Robert had groaned a bit, in the front seat of the car, but when pressed, only mentioned that he must be getting old. The rain that had been pouring throughout their dinner, only thickened as they drove. The bridge was narrow, the tires were low on tread, and Robert lost consciousness almost instantly after his coronary infarction. The car was airborne for only minutes before landing roof side down, 20 feet below the road.

Sarah only found these things out after. She had no memory of deciding to go bowling, no memory of the rain that slicked the bridge, and no memory of the crash that killed her parents and her brother. Her family, life and future had disappeared, along with her vision.

For four days, Sarah had sat in her hospital bed in a haze of confusion and despair. She could not perform the simplest tasks on her own. Feeding herself seemed impossible, so she didn't eat. She didn't want her questions answered and she couldn't stand the thought of pity or comfort, so she didn't speak. At times, she would lapse into despair so profound that they would have to sedate her. She let the doctors keep her alive with their tubes and medicines. She refused to lift a finger to help herself. Her other injuries were enough that they kept her on morphine, and this seemed sufficient to her.

On the fifth day after the accident, some one new arrived in her room. This person was not a doctor, coming to tell her that they had no new news on her vision. He was not a nurse, sent to tempt her with food or drugs. He was a pastor. He brought her flowers. She could smell the sickly sweet smell of them as he placed them on the bedside table. He held her hand and spoke softly to her about God's mercy. She didn't want to hear it. When she gave him no response, he began to tell her about the funerals of her family. She turned her head away from him and blocked out the sound of his words. Finally, when she had had enough, she pressed the button on her bed to summon the nurse and they got rid of him for her. They left the flowers though, and the stench of the lilies and roses made Sarah feel as though perhaps she was in a grave, waiting to be buried alongside her family.

Twice a day, a specialist came to Sarah's room to change the bandage on her eyes. He never offered any hope or optimism; he was as silent as Sarah herself. He simply came in, removed the white bandage from round her head, shined a bright light in her eyes that she could neither see nor sense, then wiped away the fresh tears and replaced the bandage. His was the easiest presence to tolerate.

The others all thought they had something profound to say. As if anything that they could say could take away the horror that had become Sarah's life. Nothing could give her back her family, or her dreams. Medical school was impossibility now. There could never be a blind surgeon. She had wasted the last 6 years of her life. Time she could have spent playing soccer with Toby, or shopping with Karen, or arguing with her dad…

There was nothing for her now. No one. This was made all the more real, when she heard the nurses arguing over what was to become of her. There was no family to take her home and care for her, to teach her to care for herself. She was despondent. Perhaps it would have been kinder if the accident had killed her too…

But she had thought these thoughts before they had. She had tortured herself over these things over and over and over again. God's mercy indeed. She had been spared… but for what?

And Sarah began to sink. Time became meaningless to her. She still refused to eat, refused to attempt to live, waited only for her next dose of narcotics. This continued, for 12 days. And then, on the morning of the 13th day, at an hour past midnight, something changed.

Sarah lay against her pillow, a mere shell of what and who she had been. Where once there had been a shining, vibrant, laughing 24 year old woman, there was now only a husk. Her hair hung lankly and dull, her skin was sallow and she had lost weight. Her bones were in sharp relief on her face and neck and she appeared sunken and wasting. The white bandage covered the dark circles that had appeared under her sightless eyes and she slept, restless.

Her voice, rough with the disuse of 13 days, broke the stillness. "I need you…."

And worlds away, someone heard.

A/N- I haven't given up on my other story. I'm stuck… a little. But this one has been rattling around my head for a while, so, I figured, why not? Beware though, this is a pretty awful chapter. I mean, it's BAD. Anti-fluffy and all that. It's kinda nice though, starting a story so deep into the land of suck. Cause you know what that means? It can only go up from here! (Or can't it? Muahahahaha!) Also, if you review, I will be immensely gratified and may feel the urge to compose epic poetry in your honor. Maybe not, but you never know, it could totally happen.